Roses are red
Violets are blue
My heart is full
Of love for you
But what if it’s not?
In this world there are so many roses
Everyone is too busy selling their hearts for half their worth
to realize they’re caught in an endless cycle
of roses are red.
Why can’t we just love each other
Even if we’re not perfect.
My rose is not red.
My rose is yellow or purple
Maybe even black.
My spikes are long, and I won’t hide that
But I will not sell my heart away so the world will love me
I don’t just want to look pretty in a vase with a few other roses
I’d rather lie broken on the ground
with my petals scattered by the wind
I’d rather someone find me then
And still love me
Not because I am a rose
But because I am me
Because I will not hide who I am
I would rather the world neglect me
For not being perfect
For not being roses are red
Because I’m not, and I would rather cry away my entire life
Than live someone else’s, for all of it
I would rather allow myself to be destroyed
than change myself to be loved
And I want to be loved
But not for being a red rose
I want to be loved
for being a spiky, black, broken rose.
And if such a rose exists that could love me
It will not be a red rose story
Because that’s not true
I will be something different
It will be love.
My rose ain’t red
Neither is yours
This might be love
Lets open new doors.